First Acquaintance
by LeftHandedPeopleRule
Summary: Who does she even think she is? "Listen here…" "Madge." I pause. "Whatever. Listen here Madge. I don't want or need yours or any other stupid townie's help alright." "Oh really? Tell me then, how are you going to treat it?" She demands and I'm baffled by the challenge in her steely blue eyes.


**Hello fellow readers! Sorry I haven't posted in forever, it never occurred to me that university would be even more time-consuming than school, but summer is here which means more free time and ultimately more writing! So in order to celebrate I figure I'd post this.**

**Gadge is my OTP in the Hunger Games fandom and so I'm quite nervous to be posting this as I'm well aware that so many wonderful Gadge writers already exist. Anyway I would really appreciate constructive criticism on this. Yes I am aware that it gets progressively worse and I'd also like ****apologise in advance for any mistakes; I currently don't have a beta but what can you do. That's enough rambling for now...enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or any of its characters. They are the property of Suzanne Collins.**

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**First Acquaintance**

The foul stench of charred flesh and burning coal is heavy in the air. Sirens blare across District 12 as people both young and old scurry down the narrow winding streets of the Seam like a swarm of rats, pushing and shoving and tripping over one another in a mad race to reach the coalmines first.

In the midst of the chaos, I desperately try to use my height to locate my mother, a friend, a neighbour, amongst a sea of grimy, panic-stricken faces. All of them friends and relatives of those trapped below. All anxious to hear news from the pit, their terrified faces fraught with distress like the rabbits I killed last week.

A small cluster of Peacekeepers attempt to contain the frenzied crowd, shoving people back when they get too rowdy but nobody really cares. We're all panicked, stressed, but most of all we're fearful.

We all heard the roar of the explosion resonate through the air, felt the groan of the Earth as the ground shook beneath our feet. It wasn't until the deafening wail of alarms sounded minutes afterward that our worst fears were confirmed and everyone started to charge through the Seam, driven by desperation, hope and dread. It's this very same blend of emotions that spreads through the crowd like a disease, propelling us to near madness as everyone blunders down through the Seam.

Closer to the pit people flock to the shaft like moths to a flame, crying out for their loved ones in the smoke and dust. Their actions becoming more and more frantic as fear consumes them in the same way that the soot engulfs the entire district,

A hand rests on my shoulder and I turn to see my heavily pregnant mother, her face marred with fear and concern for my father, gripping onto me for support. My younger brothers , Rory and Vick, tug nervously on her skirt and she draws them closer to her, forcing back tears as she whispers reassurances to them. Her watery grey gaze meets mine and I see the unbidden terror in her eyes. The same terror, I'm sure, that is reflected in mine.

A high-pitched squeal of metal on metal pierces the air, effectively drawing everyone's attention as we wait with baited breath for our loved ones to stumble out of the elevator alive, and hopefully, relatively unscathed.

The crowd surges forward and the first few miners are hauled out of the entrance. Their skin is blackened and they choke up coal dust, some of them holding onto their helmets as though they are a lifeline.

Buckets of water are passed onwards and some of the men who don't work down in the mines help carry the injured to safety. Peacekeepers try to hold anxious relatives back in an attempt to maintain order as more men materialise out of the fiery depths of the Earth. Meanwhile news of what transpired begins to circulate around us.

Apparently the miners that have managed to escape so far are the lucky ones; they were stationed closest to the elevator when the explosion happened. Speculations on the whereabouts of others arise when another group of bloodied and battered miners from further within the mines emerge twenty minutes later. Some workers are believed to be blocked in by fallen debris, whilst others may have escaped through some of the tunnels closer to the surface. The rest are presumed either dead or near it.

Cries of relief mingle with those of despair as the names of the living and the dead are slowly revealed after what feels like a lifetime of waiting. The peacekeepers finally pinpoint the source of the explosion and I feel the blood drain from my face when I realise that it's the same quadrant my father works in. Behind me my mother releases an agonised sob and a dark, festering void stirs within in my chest at the acknowledgement that I will never see my proud, energetic dad alive again.

It's something you don't imagine happening to yourself. In the Seam losing a parent to an accident in the mines is nothing new but somehow you think that your family is an exception that you'll never have to stand in front of the Justice Building, accepting a medal of valour in honour of the ones you've lost. The very thought of it angers me because we'll now have to literally scrounge for the smallest scrap of food in order to fend off further poverty and starvation.

And I hate them, the Capitol. I hate them for living a life of luxury where food and money comes in abundance while the rest of us starve and suffer in silence. I hate that my dad died trying to support his poor starving family all because of their sick twisted rules. I'm so angry that I can barely breathe and all of a sudden I need to get away from here, I need to breakout from the stench of fear and despair that chokes my lungs and brings tears to my eyes.

My mother calls my name in concern, her hand clutching into my arm. I twist around to face her, only to be drawn away from her as a throng of people shove through, separating us. Lashing out against scrabbling hands and searching fingers, I try to claw my way back to my family but the intensity of the crowd is too strong and I am pushed back further. I shove, push and elbow myself away from the intensity of the crowd, away from the mines and back towards the seam, searching in vain for signs of my mother.

Pain, anger and fury consume me again as I watch some of the miners, limping and bloodied and bruised, drag their injured co-workers towards the square where they'll be treated and think of how there'll be nothing left of my father to find. Tears begin to burn at the corner of my eyes and I'm so caught up in my own grief that I barely miss running into the elderly seam lady racing past me, a bucket of water in each hand. However, I instead bump into a blonde girl who stops herself from falling to the ground by grabbing a hold of my arm. I take a step back and she apologises, pulling her hand away only to find it covered in blood.

"Your arm!" She gasps, pulling a cloth out of her bag and holding it firmly below my shoulder where sure enough my shirt is torn and bloody.

"Get off! It's only a cut." I snap. The girl staggers back and stares at me with wide blue eyes, clearly startled by my sharp tone.

"I'm just trying to help you." She explains, her gaze lingering on my bloody arm.

"Yeah, well if you really want to help so much there's worse up at the apothecary and even more down at the mines." I sneer. Mystery girl takes a deep breath and composes herself.

"I'm well aware of that but you need treating. That wound could get infected," She bites her lip, and then glances around at the chaos that surrounds us. "Wait here," She instructs, thrusting the bloodied cloth in my hands before running off into the crowd.

I sit there bewildered by this small girl's authoritativeness. A few more of the injured pass by and the tears try to resurface as I think about how much this explosion has cost the district. Has cost my family. My dad is dead. The baby is due soon and my mom won't be able to work which means we'll be out of pocket if I don't find a way to keep things going. And if I don't find anything soon then our whole family will be dead in a matter weeks too.

Fortunately I'm not allowed to dwell on these dark, haunting thoughts any longer as mystery girl returns, her face flushed red from running, her breaths quick and shallow from the effort. She kneels down beside me, placing the bandage and salve on my lap, and starts tugging up my sleeve.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" I cry, "What do think you're doing?"

"You need first aid," She says impatiently, "Don't fret it'll only sting a bit. You only need to sit for five minutes at the most before you can go back to looking for your family."

I scowl. Who does she even think she is? "Listen here…"

"Madge."

I pause. "Whatever. Listen here Madge. I don't want or need yours or any other stupid townie's help alright."

"Oh really? Tell me then, how are you going to treat it?" She demands and I'm baffled by the challenge in her steely blue eyes, "Go on then," She says tossing me the bandage and smirking when I hesitate. "That's what I thought," She rolls her eyes and starts dabbing at the cut with the salve.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" I ask, "I highly doubt anyone you know is trapped 40ft below ground."

"Technically I'm supposed to wait at home for my dad." She admits, snagging the bandage out of my hand and wrapping it securely around the top of my arm.

"So how come you're not there waiting for him then?"

"I don't know," She frowns, furrowing her eyebrows, "I guess I would have felt ashamed sitting around waiting to hear news from my dad when there are people who need my help.

"But why? Why help us? Is it because we're poor? Is it because we're incapable of taking care of ourselves?" I persist.

"No!" Madge objects, the blue of her eyes flashing dangerously at me, "It's because innocent people are hurt and it would be cruel to let them suffer when I can do something to help."

Her sudden hostility surprises me, stunning me silent. It's then that I really start to look at this girl sitting in front of me, tending to my wounds.

Sharp, resentful eyes hide behind long blonde lashes, a smattering of freckles covers her nose which is currently wrinkled in annoyance at my pig-headedness. Her hair, golden like the morning sunlight, is loosely held back in a ponytail and her clothes are covered in coal dust, not that she pays any mind.

"Sorry," I mutter, "It's just, I'm not having the best of days right now." I explain solemnly, my voice wavering with emotion as I try to suppress a sob. Noting my grief Madge's anger immediately subsides into sympathy.

"My condolences," She apologises sincerely, "Who was it?"

"My dad" I murmur, a tear falling down my face.

Madge squeezes my arm in what I can only assume is a sign of comfort and resumes bandaging my arm in silence. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a relief, after all what is there to say? _Don't worry it'll get easier with time? I'm sure he's in a better place now? _I'd rather grieve my father's absence in than have the empty void in my heart smothered by hollow promises of recovery.

Eventually Madge finishes tending to my arm, wiping the sweat on her face with the back of her hand, smearing more coal dust on her cheek.

"There." She sighs, "All done now."

Instead of answering, I pull at the bandage, impressed at how it stays firmly in place.

"Don't worry it won't fall off." She assures me quietly, unsure of what to do now that her task is completed.

"No, you've done a great job," I reply whilst rising up onto my feet, "Thank you."

Madge blushes, "Your welcome."

I glance around at the disorder around us and realise that I still need to find my family out amongst the all the ensuing chaos. Madge seems to notice this too.

"You can go," She mumbles quietly, "No doubt your family are worried about you right now."

Thankful for the dismissal I nod my in thanks to her yet again and head down back towards the rampant bedlam of the Seam knowing that from this day onwards everything will change.


End file.
